


He Said He Had A Story

by plisetskees



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dubious Consent, France and England are assholes, Human Names Used, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, mentioned England/France, mentioned France/Russia, mentioned rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plisetskees/pseuds/plisetskees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end of the First Opium War, Arthur delightfully tells Francis about all the wonderful things he had done to Yao.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Said He Had A Story

**Author's Note:**

> Practicing writing less dialogue. Based on the song "He Said He Had A Story" by The Dear Hunter. Sorry if any of my history is off.

“So, I hear you finally took care of your opium problem?” The Frenchman asked and took a long drag from his cigarette. The smoke rose around the two, and filled the small room they were in. “Oh, yes. I don’t think I’ll have any more problems with my opium trade after the measures I’ve taken.” The Englishman couldn’t help but laugh as he remembered both the signing of the Treaty of Nanking, and certain, say, liberties, he had gotten to take with Yao. It was a sort of tradition between Representatives, and every nation, both young and old, knew of the morally ambiguous activities that a winning nation was permitted to do to the losing one once a treaty was signed. Their bosses signed the treaties, and the Nations sealed them with sex.

It had been something that Arthur had had a lot of experience with. If he thought back long enough, he could vaguely remember Roman Empire and Germania debating over whether the young Britannia was too small to fuck. He was thankful that Rome had found his 7-year-old body too young for even his deviancy, and that Germania felt much the same way. He was even more thankful that his brothers, which he constantly warred with after he left Rome’s protection, were the same human age as him, and refused to do any sort of debauchery with their brother at the time. However, as his country became more powerful, and his body grew to reflect that, Arthur found that he was no longer exempted from the actions of the older nations.

Arthur’s first taste of the special sort of Representative diplomacy was the Norman invasion of his nation in 1066. He almost thought it was ironic, that his older brother and constant rival would be the first to reap his victories from Arthur. Francis didn’t let that, or any of his repeated conquests of Arthur, go until the 7 Year’s War, when Arthur finally managed to beat him and conquer the bothersome Frenchman. Arthur and Francis seemed to be on somewhat-decent terms for the moment, but Arthur doubted those would last long. They never did.

Arthur stopped thinking about such things, and brought his mind back to the present, where he was in a small dining room in Normandy, drinking expensive wine while Francis ashed his cigarette. “Oh, please tell me you consummated the treaty with that Chinese _trésor_.” Francis smirked in the most unctuous way, and Arthur couldn’t help but feel that Francis had a sort of ulterior motive, but his urge to brag was too great, and with his Splendid Isolationism, he didn’t know when he would be able to even talk to another nation again. He decided he would spill everything to the Frenchman.

“Oh, of course I did. Any nation in their right mind would take the opportunity to fuck him, he’s delectable. He could probably get even Alfred to drop his prudish pants.” Arthur laughed. Even after Arthur’s humiliating defeat in the 1780’s, Alfred refused to consummate his newfound independence. He was quite sure his former charge was still a virgin; his wonderfully obedient colony, Canada, hadn’t reported that Alfred had done anything of the sort in their little spats (though Canada was often the one winning,) and Arthur seriously doubted that Alfred had the courage to approach any of the native nations or the beautiful Mexican woman to his south with sexual intent. He would probably be a virgin until a much stronger nation forced his virginity from him. Neither himself or Francis would do such a thing (their kind were morally neutral, but the two found themselves unable to force that sort of thing,) but Francis had told Arthur many stories about how, after Napoleon’s failed invasion of Russia, Ivan forced himself onto the defeated nation, even though he had made it clear that he didn’t want to consummate a treaty that hadn’t even been signed yet. Arthur was sure that there had to be others out there much harsher than Russia.

Francis laughed and grabbed another cigarette. Arthur gave him a disgusted look; he never cared for the tobacco his former colony sold. “I’ve told you a hundred times, you should have just massacred those damned Puritans instead of sending them across the ocean.” The Frenchman lit his second cigarette, and inhaled deeply. “But enough about our little America. Tell me everything about this Treaty of Nanking.” Francis was nearly purring, and Arthur knew he wasn’t talking about the Treaty his boss had signed.

“Mmm, yes. Well, we were in that great palace he has. The Forbidden City, is it? He met me in the lobby and he took me to his room, which was quite near the Emperor’s.” Arthur started, and he could remember it like it was yesterday. Yao was nearly shaking, and Arthur could tell that it had been some time since he had consummated a treaty. A voice in the back of his mind nagged at him that maybe what he was doing wasn’t moral, but Arthur ignored it. Nothing about his existence was moral, and this is what Representatives did. Yao slowly led him through the palace to where he slept. His room was grand and covered in beautiful pieces of artwork, spanning back thousands of years.

“He was so nervous. The isolated bastard probably hadn’t done anything like this in centuries, but I was certainly prepared to break his isolation.” Arthur smirked, and remembered how the ever-proud Yao Wang had tears in his eyes as he brought Arthur towards his bed, how he blinked them away before continuing with their consummation. Arthur never found out if the tears were from the humiliation of losing the war, or from having to perform such depraved acts with Arthur, and frankly, he didn’t care. Francis laughed his distinctive laugh, and took another drag from his cigarette. “And what did he do after this?” he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity.

“He disrobed. He was wearing that red, silk garb he has taken to wearing lately, I’m sure you’ve seen him wearing it.” Arthur recalled, and Francis nodded. Oh, Yao looked beautiful with the robe hanging off his shoulders, his long, dark hair cascading down his back. It took a measure of self-control for Arthur not to pull it all the way off of him. No, Arthur was a gentleman and would allow Yao to go at his own pace. Yao had sighed, and pulled off the robe completely, leaving himself bare under Arthur’s prying eyes. Arthur had drunk in every ounce of the Asian, who looked vaguely annoyed at being scrutinized by his conqueror in such a way.

“Oho, he was wearing that robe when I saw him last week at a trade meeting, how scandalous! Please, Arthur, do go on.” Francis urged him, and Arthur gladly obliged. “And there he was, stark naked in the middle of his room in his Emperor’s palace. The whole thing was just delightfully salacious. He turns to me, and he asks me what it is that I want.” Arthur paused for a moment, and Francis leaned in, entranced. “And what did you want, _cher?_ ” the Frenchman asked, and Arthur grinned darkly. “I wanted it all.”

Arthur had almost felt secondhand embarrassment for the Chinese man. He knew how humiliating it was, to be conquered and then to be pretty much forced to have sex with your conqueror, but in that moment, all Arthur could feel was lust. He didn’t know if that was something every nation felt. Arthur was a gentleman, after all, he couldn’t just ask France or Austria or any other Representative if they felt an insatiable need to fuck whenever they were victorious. He assumed, however, that it was something that affected every one of his kind. Why else would the tradition be to consummate victories with sex? The small part of him that was nagging at him to not do this to Yao died off once the older man asked Arthur what exactly he wanted, and Arthur was glad for the silence in his mind.

“I told him, ‘Move to the bed,’ and he followed my orders like a soldier would his superior’s. I _was_ his superior.” Arthur felt his chest surge with pride when he said that. He, Great Britain, the small island nation, had had the glorious and large nation of China at his control, even if it was only for one night. Yao did exactly what Arthur told him to, and he sat on the bed, attempting to cover himself, though it was futile. Arthur had the image of his body burned into his mind.

“You’re a very lucky man, _mon ami_. What did you do to him next?” The Frenchman asked. “I’m sure you’ll be as surprised at this as I was, but he actually looked me in the eyes and he asked me to be gentle, that the war had been hard on him. That history had been hard on him.” Arthur laughed. It had been almost pathetic; Arthur had never once asked any of his victors for mercy when he had been defeated. No, not even America. But Yao had sat on his bed, naked and blinking back tears, asking Arthur if he could go easy on him. Francis leaned in even closer. “And what did you do then?” He was enthralled.

“Oh, I simply smiled and reminded him that I was the victor.” Arthur cracked a smile, not unlike what he had done with Yao several nights prior. Yao seemed to accept that, and uncovered his body. He tried to retain the honorable air about him that Chinese were always so obsessed with keeping, but Arthur had seen more honor in prostitutes. He almost told Yao this, but, being the gentleman he was, stayed silent.

“How depraved, Arthur. I’m sure you got off on being the victor, as usual?” Francis mused, and drew at his cigarette. Arthur smirked. Oh, he _did_ get off on being the victor, and any living being that he had fucked in his long life, both human or Representative, highborn or whore, could see that. Yao, however, seemed to misjudge Arthur, and had stared in shock at the bulge in Arthur’s pants as he stripped off as well. Surely he didn’t think Arthur was so vanilla? Any creature who suffered the curse of immortality could agree with Arthur; as you grow older and older, the first thing to go is healthy sexual interests. Though he wasn’t as degenerate as some, such as the Frenchman before him, who had a knack for tying people up, or the Prussian in the east who had a strange love for dogs, or god forbid, the damned Austrian who got off on _hurting_ people- Arthur just thought that maybe, by being the oldest of their kind, that Yao had somehow been blessed with immunity to depravity.

“Do go on, Arthur. You have him on the bed, and he is naked… What are you doing during all of this?” Francis pondered, and Arthur was glad to indulge him. “Oh, I approached him, and he undid my trousers immediately. If he didn’t look so humiliated, I could have sworn that he wanted it.” Arthur chuckled. Yao did rid him of his pants hurriedly, though he was sure the Asian didn’t want to. He just wanted to do his duty as a Representative and get it over with as quickly as possible.

“And then I assume you two consummated the treaty?” Francis smirked, and ashed his cigarette. Arthur was thankful he didn’t reach for another, and continued with his story. “Oh, yes. You know there’s never any sort of foreplay in these affairs, and the bastard wouldn’t let me face him, even. The whole affair was dreadfully boring, I’m afraid.” Arthur said nonchalantly. No, once Arthur’s aching erection had been freed, and Yao prepared himself, Arthur thrust into the man from behind. He tried for a good 10 minutes to try and bring the man to completion before he finished himself, but he realized that Yao would take no pleasure in what he was doing. Arthur decided it was his loss and began doing what was pleasurable to him, damn what Yao felt. He spilled in the other man’s ass and pulled out, tucking his cock back into his trousers.

“Oh, what a shame. I was hoping our little Oriental beauty would have been just as exotic as the stories have said. That was an anticlimactic ending to such a wonderful tale,” Francis huffed, and Arthur laughed. “What does it matter? It’s the principle of the thing, honestly. There won’t be any more issues in China, and I can keep selling my opium. That’s the only thing that bloody India is good for anyways.” Arthur reached into the small case he had at his side, and pulled out a silk bag. “I got this beauty out of the deal. The damned Asian threw it at me as I left, saying he didn’t want my poison.” Arthur pulled a long pipe out of the bag, and a smaller bag, filled to the brim with premium Indian opium.

Though Arthur didn’t care for the tobacco his former colony sold, the opium that came from his current one was far more enticing. He lit a bowlful, and offered the first puff to Francis, who took it hesitantly. “Come, now. Tell me you’ve smoked opium before?” Arthur chuckled, and Francis shook his head, but smoked it anyways. Arthur could see the euphoria washing over him, and took the pipe so he could experience it for himself. “See? Why would you fight a war to keep this out?” Arthur laughed and exhaled smoke. Francis nodded shakily, and Arthur could tell he hadn’t ever felt like this before.

“All in all, it’s been a productive few months. I can continue trading my opium, I got the harbor I’ve had my eye on… The kid’s a total brat, but his land is very strategic for my trade in China. And I got a night with the Oriental beauty that every power has wanted to bed for centuries. Hail Britannia,” Arthur took another puff from the long pipe, and felt his high washing over him. His body was relaxing, and a smile played on his face. Oh, he loved opium.


End file.
